A Power the Dark Lord Knows Not
by pottermalfoy24
Summary: Draco is given a new path, Harry finds the way to complete his destiny, and someone else finds hope in a new generation. Xover with Star Wars. NOT SLASH! UPDATED!
1. Chapter 0

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Scholastic. Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm and 20th Century Fox. No copyright infringement is intended and no money has changed hands._

_Author's note: This one begins with a single nitpicky question: "If the future is always in motion, how could there have been a prophesy about a chosen one who would return balance to the Force?" Seems like a contradiction, but not if you were to throw true magic into the mix. The prophesy was not made through the Force._

_Reviews welcome as always! Enjoy!_

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**A Power the Dark Lord Knows Not**

Chapter 0

_Stone Henge, England, April 16, 1227..._

Had the druids come anywhere near their sacred calendar that day, they would have been frightened litteraly to death by the sight they would have seen, but none came. The beings in the vessel made certain that no one was near before decending, knowing that the people of this world were primitive and easily frightened by things they did not understand.

The ship was beautiful, the hull constructed with a new method that made it look as if it were a single solid piece of polished metal. It set down on the grass around the ancient megalithic structure and stayed still for a moment. Then the door of the ship opened, allowing two hooded figures to exit to the ramp and then to the grass. One was tall, and as he threw his hood back and took a deep breath of the damp morning air, revealed to be dark haired, with a full red beard and sharp blue eyes. The other was short, only two and a half feet tall, and he had green skin, huge pointed ears and dark green hair that was starting to silver around the edges. The little one said, "Sad I am to see you leave our order, Master Garik. Missed you will be by the Jedi Council."

The human grinned. "I wouldn't be certain of that, Master Yoda. I'm certain there are quite a few on the Council who will be glad to see the back of me."

But Yoda didn't smile. Sorrow clung to him. "Missed you will be, my Padawan."

Garik's smile disappeared. "I know. And I'll miss you, as well. But I can't stay when I know what will happen if I do. Darkness will return too quickly if it has something more to be jealous of, and the Chosen one will come too late."

"Certain you are of this prophesy?"

"Yes, Master. But I'll need you to remember something and be prepared for it. The prophesy will be misinterpreted, by many people. Before the dawn must come the darkness: it cannot be any other way."

Yoda frowned. "Defeated the dark side always can be, eventually."

Garik nodded. "Yes, it can. But it must first exist. And if I stay, it will exist sooner than the light, and no balance will come. I'm sorry if I'm being criptic. The images fly at me with such speed, it's hard to catch them some times." He sighed. "I'm needed here. The future of this world is at stake, as well."

"Know this I do, but knowing does not help."

Garik knealt to look his teacher in the eye. "I will miss you. You've been like a father to me, even if I thought I was beyond the need for a father. I love you." They embraced, and the emotion outshined the incongruity of their sizes. As they separated, there were tears in both their eyes. "You should go before we both break down."

His voice rough with emotion, Yoda nodded and said, "Fairwell, young Gryffindor."

"Fairwell, my Master."

And then Yoda turned around and got back into his ship. Garik Gryffindor backed away before the ship lifted off, then watched it fly through and beyond the atmosphere. When he could no longer see it, he sighed shakily and got down to business. He took out his magic wand and what looked like a toy broom. _"Finite incantatum."_ The broom returned to its original size, and Garik mounted it and flew into the distance, headed for Scotland and his brother's castle, Hogwarts. He knew that it had been made into a school, and he hoped that the staff would welcome his presence among them. He would need a place in this world, and teaching came naturally to him. And the school would keep his prophesies until they were ready to go to their recipients. He had plenty of time. The worst darkness on Earth wouldn't come for another seven hundred and fifty years, even in disguise. Those who would stop the darkness were both his decendants. One seed was already planted, but he had to make sure the other was around to do the work they were intended to do.

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_That's the prologue. Tell me what you think!_


	2. Lost and Found

_Disclaimer: See Chapter 0._

_Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue! I'm still working on everything I've started, but there are a great many things going on in RL which have prevented me from doing much. I've been working two jobs, for one, and moving into my new house, for another. It's all very tiring. _

_Enjoy!_

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**A Power the Dark Lord Knows Not**

Lost and Found

Harry Potter sat on a stool he had begged from the goblin attendant and continued the daunting task of inventorying the non-cash contents of his parents' vault at Gringott's Bank of London. The money he had counted last week and set aside quite a bit of it for the war effort he was about to begin, including creating a new account to aid British orphans who lost their parents to this war. He'd made sure to leave himself out of it and to include Muggle children. After all, the gold was doing nothing but sit there; he might as well put it to good use.

But there were plenty of other items in the vault, things he'd never noticed before. There were a large number of portraits, an antique oak dining table and eight matching chairs, jewelry, loose gems, photo albums, and family documents, including a huge and ornate family tree that was self-updating. It was really rather depressing to find the tree did not hold any secret living relatives. There were only the Dursleys. Of the gems and jewelry, he was keeping his parents' wedding rings and a huge piece of rose quartz the size of his fist that had been polished smooth and round, a pink sphere of crystal. The rest he planned to sell for the fund. The family documents included birth and death certificates, property deeds for Godric's Hollow and three other houses, and a book of pedigrees for a long and noble line of winged horses that had apparently been maintained by the house elves at Potter House, the ancestral home of Harry's family.

The photos Harry decided to go through in a more comfortable setting, but the portraits he wanted to go ahead and look at. They were covered by dust cloths, and Harry rolled these up carefully so he didn't dislodge a bunch of dust into the air. He laid them aside, then turned around to face the portraits.

There were two of them, and like all wizard paintings, they were sentient, mobile and vocal. The first was ordinary enough, a tall man with black hair, long enough to flow behind his shoulders, a dark red beard that was close cropped rather than long and flowing, and sharp blue eyes. He wore a simple tunic and pants of humble but quality cotton, a sash belting them around his waist, leather boots and a plain brown hooded robe. He was seated in a comfortable-looking chair to the side of a cheerily burning hearth, the rest of the background hidden in shadows.

The other was marvelously strange. He could, at first, have been mistaken for a house elf, but only at first. He was the same size, and he had pointed ears, but there the similarities ended. His ears were smaller and lacked earlobes, his complexion was olive green and he had thinning salt-and-pepper hair that had once been a dark, velvet green. His eyes were smaller, more human, and his nose was smaller as well. He only had three fingers on each hand, each ending in a thick, blunt claw. He was dressed in the same manner as the human and was seated on a strange floating cushion. It was not floating magically, but by some technical device upon which the cushion was mounted. Behind him was a scene straight out of a science fiction magazine. Tall columns of marble framed a vast window, and outside that window, small spaceships flew past against the backdrop of a great city that stretched all the way to the horizon. Sometimes other people dressed the same way would walk by, and they were all different species, none of which Harry recognized in the slightest. He said, "Wow. I've never seen a wizard painting like this before."

The little creature smiled. "And doubt I do that you ever will again." His voice was a medium tenor which had a bit of gravel in it, as well as amusement. "Wonder, you do, that you see even this one, yes?"

"Yes, sir. What are you? And what's your name?"

"Yoda am I called, and a Jedi Knight am I."

The man in the other portrait chuckled, his voice a rich, deep bass with a thick British drawl. "What he doesn't tell you, nor has he ever told anyone else that I'm aware of, is the name of his race. It's all a big secret."

Yoda rolled his eyes. "Much humor there is in you, my Padawan, for these dark times." Then he turned back to Harry. "Think you that it matters from what race I was born?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't. Race doesn't change intelligence, but it can affect what abilities a creature has, and it may affect how they think because of cultural differences."

"Very good answer, youngster." The human painting had a broad smile on his face. "But all Jedi have the same culture, no matter what race they come from, because they are raised by the Order from the time they are very young. This rule has very few exceptions, of which I am one. I was born and raised right here on Earth, and I wasn't found by the Order until I was seventeen years old."

"So, what _is_ a Jedi?"

"A Jedi is a person with the ability to use the Force who has been trained to use it with honor and humility to help keep the peace throughout the Galactic Republic and has taken a vow to do so. The trainees, or Padawans, must pass a great many trials before this happens, and none are forced to walk that path who do not wish it, for it is a dangerous and often short road."

"And what is the Force? Is it just another word for magic?"

"No. As both a wizard and a Jedi, I am likely the only person in the galaxy qualified to answer that question. My name is Garik, by the way. In the times I lived in, it was general knowledge that there were two different kinds of magic; earth magic and life magic. Earth magic is unique to this planet as far as I know. It is easily accessible if one has the ability, which all wizards do, as it has permeated every form of life on Earth. The Force is life magic. Very few are ever born with the ability to use it, but it exists in all things throughout the galaxy. If a sentient being is able to use the Force, if it runs strongly enough within them, then they have the potential to become a Jedi. And there have probably been Muggles on Earth who were Force-strong."

"How does it work? And how would you know it if you had it?" Harry was starting to get a very strange feeling. What if he had this power? What if Dumbledore was wrong about the reasoning behind the prophesy? Could he really have been the "Chosen One", as the Daily Prophet kept calling him, because he could use life magic? Since he was about to begin his war effort, this was very important information. But honestly, he hoped that this wasn't the reason. He didn't want to be even more different, to give people even more reason to try and turn him into either a devil or a god. He'd had enough of that to last a thousand life times.

Garik seemed to look through Harry, and it was an odd feeling, though not actually uncomfortable. "The talent is identified by a Jedi Master. You may notice some things like faster reflexes or slight premonitions of danger."

Yoda spoke again. "If a youngster of ability a Master finds, then explain he will to the parents of that child and then take him to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant he will. But in the case of one already so old as Master Garik when found him I had, tradition it is to leave them, to train them not. Continue on with their lives they will, and in small ways, by instinct alone, will they continue to use the Force. But different was this young human. Already trained he was in a similar discipline, already knowing how to control the Force, and this magic."

Garik picked up the tale. "I was about your age when Master Yoda found me here. I was attending the school that my brother and his friends had founded, as Godric insisted that I receive a proper education, but before I had ever learned how to wave a wand, I had been taught by an old monk how to control my other abilities. I was in my final year of school when this little green creature walked into the Great Hall and boldly asked to see the person in charge. Well, all four of the Founders walked up to meet him, and had a discussion in the foyer. When they were done, Godric told me that I was to go with Yoda to further my education."

"And then you exploded." Harry could just see the scene if Dumbledore had come to him and told him suddenly that he had to attend a different school all together without ever having told him why. Thinking of the departed Headmaster was painful, though, and he quickly turned his thoughts back to the two portraits.

He chuckled. "I might have said something harsh, yes. But I went anyway, and I have always been grateful for my brother's interference. I only wish that I had been able to see him again before he died. Magic just cannot extend one's lifespan as far as the Force can." He sighed. "Regret gets you nowhere."

Harry nodded, then sighed. "Is it possible that I use this Force?"

Garik looked at him measuringly. "Possible, but very unlikely that you have enough to become a Jedi. The most I've ever seen since I returned to Earth was a particularly good Quidditch player, but even he only had some augmentation to his reflexes and response time. He couldn't have used it for anything else. Do you play Quidditch?"

"Yes."

"Any good at it?"

"I think so."

"Then you probably have just as much as he had. As a painting, I'm really not able to do what I could in life, so I can't be as sure as I might have been, but there you have it." Harry nodded, and was honestly relieved. They were silent for a moment, then Garik said, "Is that Family Tree Cassandra made in here?"

Yoda sighed slightly. "Always do you seek these children of your prophesies. So certain are you that they will ever be born?"

Garik shuffled in his chair, looking uncomfortable. "One of them already was. In the furor of the wars here on Earth, no one looked at this tapestry, but I have a copy of it with me here that will always mirror the real one. I knew when he came. I knew when the dark times descended on the galaxy, and I knew when they were lifted. But the time is not right to tell you everything, even now. There is one more who needs to hear it, and he will be here soon." He turned to Harry. "Now, the frame to the tapestry is on a hinge. There's a catch on the left side that should just pop loose. Go ahead and open it up."

Harry was more than a little curious, so he went back to the table he'd laid the Family Tree on. Looking at it, he found that the first ancestor listed on the Tree was Garik Gryffindor. The second was his daughter, Nariya, and Barrius the Potter, a Muggle. He grinned. It looked like his family had a long-standing tradition of flouting tradition and allowing Muggle marriages. He continued to look and found all kinds of familiar names like Black, Weasley, Longbottom and Dumbledore. It looked as though he was a distant cousin to all of the people who were most important to him.

He opened the catch on the left side of the frame and gently swung it open. There he found a real surprise. The tapestry was folded in half! There was another side to the family! Excited, Harry might have just whipped it out of the frame, but caution took hold of him for once. He lifted it gently and laid it flat on the table. The right side had been showing, the second side. The left, that of the older sibling was extensive, with many, many cousins, but there were also many disturbing cut offs, descendants who had died without issue.

"Those are the children who were born off this world, out in the larger galaxy." Garik sat back, remembering a time long past. "I was on assignment on Barrin Dur tracking a slave trader. I was discovered and captured, made a slave. I was implanted with a small explosive which would be detonated at the will of my captor if I tried to escape."

"Couldn't you have escaped anyway?"

He nodded. "Yes, but in his anger, Corra the Hutt would likely have killed many of his slaves. I stayed in the hope of destroying his operation and returning the slaves to freedom." He shuffled again. "Before that could happen, I was sold to a very powerful and deadly woman, Queen Hishall of the Bedlin system. The Bedlin used slaves for various entertainments, including watching them mate." Harry sucked in his breath in surprise. "Yes. When I was finally extricated and both the Bedlin and Corra had been brought to justice, I sought out the child I had sired because of that, but he had already been sold to another trader. I never found him."

Harry blinked. "But then how did he come to be on the tapestry?"

"When I returned to Earth, I married and the tree was made as a matter of tradition. My wife, Cassandra Ravenclaw, was extremely talented in making these things, and not only our daughter appeared on it, but my son as well. I had told her about him, but it was still amazing that she was able to put him into the tapestry." He stopped to breathe, then said, "Look down at the end."

So Harry did, and he easily spotted the anomaly. Shmi Skywalker was listed as having a son, Anakin, but there was no father listed. On a magical tapestry, it wouldn't matter that they weren't married or if she had already been married to someone else. Anakin's father should have been listed. Anakin himself had married and sired twin children, Luke and Leia, and their mother, Padmé Naberi, was listed, as was Leia's husband and her twins, Jacen and Jaina. The entire family before Luke and Leia was dead. Why, when it listed every single one of the rest, was that one man left out? "What's wrong with this entry?"

Garik grinned. "Nothing. There was _no_ father, save the Force." Harry's eyes bugged out and the Jedi/wizard laughed at the expression on his face. "Sounds strange, doesn't it. Anakin was the result of something called a vergence. There's a very complicated scientific explanation for it all, but basically a vergence is a direct action of the Force upon a living being. It acted upon Shmi Skywalker to produce her child." Once again, Garik sat back in his chair, allowing himself to sink into it. "Anakin was a good man, and a powerful Jedi. But he was corrupted."

Beside him, Yoda sucked in a surprised breath. Even after all these centuries, his student could still surprise him. "Corrupted, say you?"

Garik sighed. "Later. I'll tell you when the other arrives." Looking into the fire, the man seemed to see beyond it and into another reality. "It should be very soon." The fire in the painting and the flame of the torch on the wall of the vault both moved from an unfelt wind, an effect which made the hairs raise on the back of Harry's neck. A vague portent of something coming centered itself in his mind, and he could only hope that whatever it was, it would be of help to the gathering forces of light here on _this_ planet. The painting whispered again, "Very soon indeed."

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_Reviews are welcome, and often give me ideas!_


	3. Discoveries

_Disclaimer: See Chapter 0. _

_Author's note: Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Sorry I'm so late with this one. I had to figure out where I was going with it. _

_I feel the need to mention this before someone makes a comment about how this story isn't going to follow the post-RotJ books. First, most of those books and series were written before the new trilogy was created. While everyone had to talk to Lucas before publishing their work, there are inconsistencies, not only between the books and the movies, but between the books of one author and another. This is understandable, but I don't want to try and pick my way through that maze. I'd rather just start fresh and say that, while this story does follow "Return of the Jedi", it has nothing to do with the "Expanded Universe" stories. The only things I'm allowing in are 1)Leia and Han were married, and 2) they had twin children, Jaina and Jacen. Beyond that, it's all my interpretation. _

_That said, I hope you all enjoy the rest of the story!_

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**A Power the Dark Lord Knows Not**

Discoveries

The Jedi Temple Archive had once been a beautiful, cathedral-like place, the stone archways playing with the light from the circular and triangular windows. The stacks had been full of glowing data crystals from floor to balcony to ceiling containing information on all manner of subjects, the most extensive library in the galaxy. Droids had roamed from one end to the other, taking the crystals to terminals to be observed by whichever Jedi had requested them. It had been a solemn place, but one alive with ideas and the traditions of a thousand generations of Jedi Knights.

The violent birth of the Empire had changed all that. The Archive was now a cold, haunted place, filled with dead droids, dead caretakers, and horribly, dead children. All of the dead had been destroyed either with blaster bolts by clone troops or with the blade of a lightsaber. Nothing else could have cut that cleanly. Luke Skywalker shuddered to walk where his father had walked, knowing what he now knew, that his father had destroyed this place while following the first order he ever took from Palpatine.

With the destruction of the Empire and the final surrender of Palpatine's armies, the Galaxy was trying to form a new government, trying to bring order to the chaos that had been left behind. It was not an easy task, and information was being sought out on how the Old Republic had been formed when it was still young and strong, and how, in the height of its power, it had been so corruptible. Padmé Naberie had been quoted once as saying that freedom had died "with thunderous applause". Today's leaders wanted to avoid such circumstances, and only one place was ever said to hold the kind of extensive records that they were looking for.

It had been said that if a set of facts wasn't in the Jedi Archive, it didn't exist. There was hope that the ingenious builders of the Archive might have had backups to the information they were storing, and as Luke was the only Jedi currently alive, he was the one they had sent to find out.

Luke stared at the dead walls of crystals. All had been wiped out by a massive power surge, which he guessed had occurred when the fire that had raged through the temple had reached the generators. Nothing usable had survived, which had, of course, been the intention of the Emperor. Information was a weapon he did not want the common entity to have so readily available.

When Luke had first begun looking for this place, Artoo Detoo had surprised him with the amount of information he had about his family. Not only had the little droid known Ben Kenobi, he had known him even before he had met a young boy named Anakin Skywalker. Artoo had told him the whole story of the rise of the Empire, from the Trade Federation's blockade of the Naboo to the final death throes of the Old Republic and the self-destruction of Anakin. Leia had listened to the tale as well, translated by See-Threepio, and had held his hand as they heard of the destruction of their father, the death of their mother and their own birth. Then they got to laugh when he told them about Ben ordering Threepio's memory erased and the golden droid started sputtering indignantly, but it was the only bright spot in the whole narrative.

And then Artoo had told them that there _was_ a backup to the library, a protected independent system whose only connection to the main archive was the updating circuitry. It was fail-safed to disconnect in the event of a power surge, so there was no risk of loss in the backup. It had been built by a Master Garik hundreds of years ago and kept secret by the Jedi Council. As head of the Council, Yoda had been the only one left with that information, and he had given it to Artoo since a droid was required to access the information. He had the access code as well.

Which was why they were here. If there had ever been a time to revive the Jedi Temple Archive, it was now. Yoda had told him to pass on what he had learned, and once the Temple was cleaned up and repaired, he thought that this would make the perfect place to do exactly that.

Artoo wasted no time in locating an access terminal that had not been destroyed in the fire, and into that terminal he sent one command on all frequencies: _exeunt mechanos_. At first, nothing happened, but soon the whine of ancient servos could be heard deep under the floor. Then a seemingly decorative disk in the center of the floor split into four equal sections and folded down until they reached the floor. Attached to each piece was a hydraulic leg, and as the servos continued making noise, a huge droid climbed spider-like out of the hole and settled above it.

The body of the droid was sleek and golden, long and tapered like a missile and it had two compound eyes on the sides of a voice grate. The droid focused on Luke and Artoo simultaneously, and making a decision based on orders given to it long ago, it unrolled itself along the barrel. The inside of the droid was full of data crystals, all tightly packed in row after row of concentric power stations. Thousands of little arms flitted around the crystals, and one of these removed a single crystal, rolled down a track to the head end and down a slit to the tip of the nose, extending the crystal for Luke to take.

There was a strange energy about the machine, but Luke sensed no darkness from it, so he took the crystal. The droid spoke with a deep, thickly accented voice, as it said, "This collection is a complete backup of the Jedi Temple Archive, until connection was terminated precisely thirty-two standard years, four months and two days ago."

Not missing the fact that his thirty-second birthday had been four months and two days ago, Luke asked, "How much data is that?"

"Approximately seventy-five quintillion terabytes."

Artoo let out an appreciative whistle.

"No kidding." Then he looked at the crystal. It was the source of the energy he had been feeling. It was similar to the Force in nature, but it seemed to vibrate with suppressed potential where the Force was a calm flow, a part of the universe and just as old. Still it didn't seem dangerous, so he inserted it into Artoo's reader port. He immediately scanned the crystal and found a holographic recording, so he began to play it.

The image was life-sized, and obviously a Jedi. He was tall, with dark hair and a full beard, but his face was familiar. Luke shared it. That was shocking, to say the least, but he remembered that Yoda had said that the Force ran strongly in his family. Maybe he didn't just mean his father and sister.

The image began to speak. "Greetings, Jedi. I am Master Garik Gryffindor, and I am responsible for the creation of the droid backup system. My particular talents in the Force and in magic allow me to see the future with frightening clarity at times, and I knew that the day would come when the library would be destroyed, so I acted to prevent the loss of information. I also knew that a descendant of mine would be the one to reopen the Archive, and I planned accordingly. I have a lot to tell you.

"First, true magic only exists on one world that I know of; the primitive world I called home. The system is on the Outer Rim and the world is called Earth. On that world, you will find a single distant relation, another descendant of mine. He will not have the potential to be a Jedi, but he will have dire need of your aid. He will be a young man of seventeen years, physically marked by the Dark One he battles. Also, you will find another young man, unrelated, who uses magic only through the Force, and this one you may apprentice.

"Both of these men are in danger from a creature who used to be a man, a creature with seven souls, all of them despicable, diseased wisps of energy. Only one is in his body, and some of them may have already been destroyed, but until all of the external pieces are destroyed, he can return to life again and again.

"Now, Jedi, do not make the mistake of underestimating magic. While not as powerful as the Force, magic is much more versatile, producing effects you would never imagine if you had not seen them. It changes the very fabric of life on my world, creating more native sentient species than exist on any other world in the galaxy. In the hands of a witch or wizard, a human who uses magic, almost anything can happen." The ancient Jedi Master pulled a short wooden rod out of a pocket in his robes. "This is my magic wand. Since I have learned to use the Force, I have not needed it to use magic, but wizards are trained to use the wand to focus the power within them. Wands are made from different woods, all of which have different emotional properties, and all have a magical substance at their core, which acts in the same way as the crystal at the center of a lightsaber, focusing the energies of the user. But, as the Force acts in very predictable ways, enhancing our own abilities and perceptions and allowing us to affect the world, magic takes it further and actually changes matter and energy. You will not be able to understand until you see it happen. Just be wary of the wand which is pointed in your direction, as there are many spells which are weapons to the wizard."

The ancient Jedi's face was troubled, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "I know I ask much by sending you to this world. Its troubles will not spread to the rest of the Galaxy because the people there have no hyperdrive capability, and it is so remote that not even the Hutts had any interest in it. It may not technically be the business of a Jedi. But this dark creature will destroy my home world if he is not stopped. Your cousin is the one destined to destroy him, but he has no guarantee of success. He needs the guidance of one who will not underestimate him because of his youth, one who has seen battle and who is still among the living. The other young man comes from an elitist family who will kill him if they find he is not truly a wizard, and though he has skirted the dark side before, he finds it abhorrent because he has seen its effects." Master Garik straightened. "Have you any questions? This is an interactive recording, so I may answer them."

One came to Luke immediately. "How can you see the future so clearly? Master Yoda told me that it is always in motion, and I have seen that he is right."

"Master Yoda was also my Master. He was not incorrect, but magic echoes with time more easily than the Force, and events which cause ripples in the Force also cause ripples in time, and it is these ripples which can travel backward and touch the mind of a Seer. Events such as the destruction of Alderaan and the death of the Sith Emperor are so violent that they were able to reach me in this time so long ago. My own family lines getting tangled in dire events within less than a century of each other caused a major ripple the moment my son was born on Bedlin. The rise of the Empire was already causing some movement, but your father was a creation of the Force itself, a vergence which centered in his mother's womb and caused his birth. This caused me to actually produce a prophesy. 'As Twilight falls upon the galaxy, one will be born, a son of the Force, and he will return balance and bring his dawn out of the dark times.'"

Luke shook his head. "I'll bet that didn't go over well. From what I know of the Jedi Council, they were so steeped in tradition that anything outside of that would have been mistrusted."

Master Garik grinned. "You are quite correct. Most of the Council refused to believe me. As this backup Archive is being built, I am preparing to leave the Jedi Order. I have done all I can do here, and I am needed on my home world. My prophesy will be remembered, but it will be misinterpreted, even by Yoda. It is the Council's distrust of your father that will allow the darkness into his heart, and their traditions which will cause him to defy them."

Luke was not surprised by this. He had already heard it all from Artoo, but it was still the saddest story he'd ever heard. But something else caught his attention. "Your prophesy says that he was to bring 'his dawn'? Did you know what world he would be found on?"

"No. Why?"

The Jedi grinned, realizing what part of the prophesy meant. "He was found by Master Qui-gon Ginn on Tatooine, a desert world with twin suns. I was raised there later, but my sister was raised on Alderaan."

Garik's eyebrows went up onto his forehead. "Ah! Twins! That makes sense. You were both instrumental in his triumph?"

Remembering his father's last moments, a soft smile came to Luke's face. "Yes, I believe so. He turned back from the dark side for us."

The hologram turned his head slightly to the side. "Will you go to Earth? Will you help to return balance there as you have for the rest of the galaxy?"

Luke looked up. "How much time do I have, or do you know?"

"Very little. I can't be more specific because this is only a recording."

That threw Luke a bit because the ancient Jedi had been reacting so believably to his questions. He suspected that the magic Garik had placed in the data crystal might have something to do with it. But still, he had answered as best he could. Luke made his decision. "I'll deliver this droid archive to the Alliance leaders so that they can look it over, and then I'll go. As far as it not being the business of the Jedi, there's a lot of the Code that doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Since I must begin anew, I might as well write a new Code, one that avoids some of the problems that the old one had. It seems to me that if a Jedi asks help for his home world, then it should be given."

Garik grinned. "Thank you, Master Jedi. I had not foreseen your changing the Code, but it is good. Go first to the one who is strong in the Force." Garik's image was replaced with that of a globe map, but his voice continued on and the map zoomed in as he spoke. "This is Earth. You will find all you seek on these islands, called Britain. Your Padawan, should you decide to take him as such, is on this one, known as Ireland. Your cousin is on the bigger island. Your droid had the coordinates." Garik reappeared. "One last piece of advice. By the time all of this comes to pass, the ignorant, non-magical public of this world will have some space capability and will have many scopes watching the night skies. It is best if they remain ignorant, that they be allowed to discover the truth on their own, because right now their military would panic, and though you could easily best them, it would be better for everyone to avoid them. I recommend using a ship with a cloaking device. Farewell, my son. May the Force be with you." And then Garik disappeared.

Luke did nothing for a moment, just absorbing everything that had just happened. When he'd first been asked to see if anything in the Archive could be saved, he had agreed readily, feeling the pull of the Force toward the very thing they were asking him to retrieve. But he hadn't known what would await him, and he certainly hadn't expected this. But still, it was worth doing. His family was so small, another addition would be welcome, as would another person to whom he could pass on the knowledge of the Force.

Artoo beeped a question at him. "Yes, Artoo. We're going. But we've got to get this droid to Leia first, and we've got to find a ship with a cloaking device. I was thinking of borrowing Lando's new toy." Artoo warbled derisively. "I know, but he'll probably let me use it once I tell him how primitive this place is supposed to be. Don't worry, Artoo. Everything will be fine."

* * *

_Reviews are wonderful!_


	4. Running

_Disclaimer: See Chapter 0._

_Author's note: I'm not going to give out deadlines for myself any more. I don't seem to be able to keep them very well. I want to thank everyone who's been reviewing. It really has made a difference in whether or not I continue. Now, a couple of people have asked me not to make Draco into a Jedi, but seriously, I think that track is more interesting than if I were to make one of the Trio into one. It makes sense after he couldn't kill Dumbledore, and I think he'll be a good one when he gets some growing up done._

* * *

**A Power the Dark Lord Knows Not**

Running

Draco Malfoy sat cross-legged on a pad made from a folded blanket on the floor of a Muggle camping tent. He had not changed much in the small two-man sleeper, but he had put a weather shield and a glamor on it, both for protection. His temporary home looked like just another tree in the Irish countryside, and it kept the rain and wind out. He was invisible and sheltered. He was comfortable as was possible in the tiny space, and he had time to meditate and recuperate.

Draco had been on the run ever since June, ever since the fiasco with Dumbledore had resulted in his—his _condition_—being outted to Voldemort and his father. His mother had always known, being one of those rare people who could tell the difference between earth magic and life magic just by the feel of it. She had done a lot of research when he was very young, and she had guided him as best she could.

Draco was not—technically—a wizard. He was an earth magician, or mage for short. Mages were far more likely to be found in obscure religious orders than in wizarding society. In fact, to Draco's admittedly poor knowledge, there had never been a wizard who was also a mage, though some thought Merlin might have been one such. Draco _could_ perform magic, very convincingly, but he manipulated earth magic with his life magic, gathering it into the palm of his hand and forcing it through his wand to produce a spell. He had more steps to go through to perform the same spell as someone else, which made him just a tad slower than, say, Potter or Granger.

Draco sighed and stared into the flame of his candle, the only light he had allowed himself. He'd done such a good job of pretending, that he was a wizard, that he was his father's little shadow, that he believed in Lord Voldemort's vile sputum. But in the end, no amount of pretending could force him to betray his true beliefs, to kill Dumbledore and every other Muggle-loving teacher at Hogwarts. Surrounded by the dark, he repelled it, like a candle in the night.

He had his mother to thank for that. Despite Lucius Malfoy's influence upon his son, Narcissa'd had the raising of him, and so had been able to instill decent values in him. He valued all life, even more because he could sense life, could feel it when things died or were born. He sometimes shared the pain of death or injury with animals he became close to, to say nothing of people.

He had overcome much in the past year, including his fear of death's pain, but that didn't mean he courted it, and Voldemort's order to murder Hogwarts' staff had undone him. He'd tried. For the sake of his own survival, Draco had tried his best to do as he'd been commanded, to commit murder. Tried and failed.

He later learned from Snape that the task had been a trap all along, a trap he'd been rescued from by his god father, but that rescue had not come without a cost. The price of his freedom? To hear a secret and carry it for as long as both he and Snape lived.

There had been hundreds of revelations that night, and not all, or even most, had come from the mouth of Severus Snape, but for now, Draco remembered those that had. Snape had known for a long time that Draco was no wizard, had known since he first sat Potions with him, and he'd protected that secret behind his formidable Occulmensy shields. Dumbledore had been dying of curse poisoning the night Severus had killed him, had, in fact, asked Snape to relieve his suffering when it would do the most good. And most shocking of all, both Dumbledore and Voldemort had had perfectly logical reasons for believing they had Snape's loyalty. Yes, Snape hated James Potter, had not mourned his or Sirius Black's passing. _But he had loved Lily!_ She had been his one true friend during his torturous time at Hogwarts, his one staunch defender against the pranks, the taunts, and the loneliness. Romance had never happened between them, only fraternity, but when Snape heard that Voldemort had killed his best friend in the world, he'd changed sides for good, becoming the perfect spy.

Snape had vindicated Draco's search for peace, told him in no uncertain terms that he had been right to deny Voldemort his prize. They'd talked for hours in the relative safety of the open air as they walked from the edge of the Forbidden Forest to a waiting Portkey. And here Snape made his first—and last—mistake. In order to hide something with Occulmensy, you must not think about it, must shove it to the back of your mind and layer shields upon it to prevent unauthorized peeking. Voldemort had overheard their entire conversation while checking up on all of his men.

The dark wizard had taken days to plan Snape's execution, and in the end had chosen irony for his weapon. He called his Death Eaters to his side and told Snape to come forward, that he was to be rewarded for his services in killing Dumbledore. Then he'd injected him with basilisk venom.

Snape had Apparated out to where Draco waited for him, but there was no cure but phoenix tears, which neither of them had on hand. The poison killed him within the hour, but not before he'd had a chance to bottle some of his memories and tell Draco what to do with them. "When Voldemort strikes at Hogwarts, not before and not after, you get this vial to Potter."

"What's in it?"

"Information that he requires. You won't understand it all, but he will. Dumbledore's last message to him is in there. He knew it would have to come from me. Now, it will have to come from you, as well. It is vital for him to defeat Voldemort." He took a ragged breath. "I have loved you as a son, and you have made me proud. I know you will continue to do so." Then he died.

So here he sat in his tent, trying to find some direction in the light of a candle, his dead mentor lying outside disguised as a rock. He sighed and stood. It was time to be moving on. If he was to get Potter to accept the vial from him, he would have to get him to trust him, and that was going to take a lot of skill and finesse.

Draco exited the tent, abolished the illusion, and turned to Snape's body. Deciding that it needed to be buried, he banished it to a location six feet below it's current resting place. The earth bubbled up around it, since it could not occupy the same space as the dirt. Then he used his abilities with life magic to remove bits off the boulder that lay at Snape's head, writing, "Here lies Severus Prince-Snape. A Slytherin. A spy. A good man."

Draco stared at he gravestone for a while, pondering all he knew of the man beneath it, but eventually his connection to life magic started vibrating, a sign he took for a warning of danger. It wouldn't be long before they found him.

Draco looked up at a sudden loud noise. He saw nothing, but he felt an intense presence, a brilliant sun of life magic, and he felt no danger from it, only curiosity and a kind of searching alertness. A person who was _very_ strong with life magic was looking for something that they were curious about. _Me. He's looking for me._

Draco was wary of a trap, but reason told him that Voldemort had nothing to do with this. Voldemort put off a stink to his senses that he likened to an old, unemptied chamber pot*. No, this was something new, something unrelated. Or rather, someone.

At first, Draco could see nothing, but as the noise got louder and louder, the field that was hiding its source, a strange Muggle aeroplane, dissipated entirely and the vessel could be seen descending gently to the earth. It threw a lot of dust and dirt into the air, but finally it touched down, and the blustering wind stopped.

The bubble on the top of the plane was clear, and Draco could see that it would actually hold two people, but that the back seat was empty. The front seat held a man who wore a round helmet of some kind of white material, or at least it had once been white, but it was very old and had seen many battles. The man did something to the bubble and it came loose, sliding back over his head until it had gone completely into the body of the plane. Then he hopped out, a jump that would cause many to pause before attempting as it was nearly a ten-foot drop.

The man took off his helmet and ran a hand through his mussed dirty blond hair. He said something in a language that Draco didn't understand, but he extended his hand toward him in greeting. Draco took it, trusting in life magic to warn him if there were any danger, and said, "I'm Draco Malfoy. I don't believe that you and I speak the same language. I can fix that for you." He took out his wand. The stranger seemed to know what a wand was, because he looked warily at Draco. "I promise, I won't hurt you."

Then Draco felt life magic coming _from_ the man. It wrapped around him, testing him, and he allowed it, hiding nothing. Satisfied, the man nodded, and Draco wove a spell. He said, "_Lingua loquellare_," and moved his wand in a spiral swish, while gathering magic in the palm of his hand. As he finished the spell, the magic moved through the wand and produced the correct effect, which was to allow the stranger to speak his language. With a grin, he then said, "Can you understand me now?"

Luke shook his head. "Amazing! I was told that these wands are weapons."

"You can use any spell in the world with a wand, not just offensive and deffensive ones. Now, as I said before, I'm Draco Malfoy."

"Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight."

"What is a Jedi Knight? I've never heard of them."

Something gained Mr. Skywalker's attention behind Draco as he was about to answer. His eyes narrowed. "Friends of yours?"

Draco spun around. Sure enough, Voldemort, Lucius, and about fourteen other Death Eaters stood at the entrance to the clearing. The evil snake man had a smirk on his face. "Found yourself a Muggle friend, have we, Draco. My, how the pure have fallen."

Draco held his wand at the ready. "So it would seem."

"Now, Draco, why don't you introduce us to your new friend. I'm sure that my friends would love to get to know him." The Death Eaters began to advance, walking around Voldemort and Lucius to begin their attack on both Draco and the Muggle pilot behind him.

Mr. Skywalker leaned next to his ear and spoke quietly. "Get in the back seat of the ship. I'll be there in a moment." To the oncoming Death Eaters, he said, "I have no wish to harm any of you. Turn around and leave in peace."

Of course, as Draco obeyed Skywalker without question, the other wizards had no intention of doing so.

* * *

Luke didn't want to show all his cards at once, knowing that it was likely that he would have to face these people in the near future if he meant to help this young man and his own cousin in fighting them, so he left his lightsaber clipped to his belt. Darkness fairly dripped off of most of them, especially the bald one. He must be the one Master Garik had been talking about. Instead of drawing his weapon, he took a slightly defensive stance. In Basic, he called to Artoo, "Be ready to take off in just a moment."

The dark one said, in the language that Draco had just put into his head, "What makes you think that you have the power to harm us that you would make such an interesting offer of escape?" Luke said nothing. "Gentlemen, inform young Draco's new friend just how much of a mistake he has made."

The men drew their wands. The one closest to him launched a spell, which he quickly blocked with the Force. It went spinning off in the direction of a tree, which began to _melt_. Luke felt the disruption in the Force as the tree died, and vowed to be more careful with this magic. Artoo squealed from the droid pocket on the _Lucky Star_. Luke somersaulted backwards, landing in the cockpit and closing it just as he and Draco were both seated. "Hold on. I'm going to get us into the air and engage the cloak."

The ship slowly rose from the ground, and for a moment, the masked men were far too busy gawking at it to use their wands, but their leader began shouting at them. Luke couldn't hear them very well through the cockpit window, but he didn't imagine that it was anything good. He turned on his microphone and said to Artoo, "Raising shields and engaging cloak." The few spells that were launched bounced harmlessly off the ship's defensive shielding. "Draco, do you know anywhere that's actually safe for you right now? We need to talk."

Draco thought about it for a moment. "The old Potter House. Have you got a map?" He started when a holographic map of the British Isles popped into the air in front of him. "Um, yeah." He pointed to a particular spot in southwestern England. "The House has been abandoned ever since James Potter's parents died." Draco looked at the back of his rescuer's head. "I trust you, and I have no idea why. But let me warn you. If you betray that trust, you'll regret it. Potter is probably headed to the house, which is his ancestral home, and if you harm any of his friends, you'll probably be left as a smoking hole in the ground."

"This magic is that strong?"

"Not for everyone. But though it galls me to say it, Potter is the strongest wizard to be born in centuries. I and almost everyone else are hoping that his strength will be enough to deal with that person you just met, because if he isn't, we're all in very deep trouble."


End file.
